There to Pick Up the Pieces
by Chasingpaper14
Summary: Neil takes a bullet for Peter while on an undercover op. Peter feels guilty. From Peter's perspective.


_Beep..._

_Beep..._

_Beep..._

The less than comforting ring of the heart monitor at the side of the hospital bed was the only reassurance Peter had that his criminal consultant was in fact still alive. Neal looked far too pale against the stark white sheets, and his chest barely rose and fell as he breathed. The agent watched the monitor draw patterns - patterns that illustrated Neal's life in a way that seemed far too simplistic. He watched those lines until he began to see double, then sighed and drew a hand through his tousled dark hair and let his face fall into his hands.

_It was too wrong..._

He should have been the one in that bed. The ghost between the layers of white linen, the one with the hole alarmingly close to his heart where the bullet had torn an unforgiving path through his consultants chest. If it was just a couple of centimeters to the left...

He didn't want to think about that. But the nightmares were relentless. Images of Neal haunted his mind every time he let his eyes close. Neal, lying face up on the warehouse floor as his essence spilled out around him in a puddle of crimson, eyes darting frantically to seek Peter out, because Peter would fix all of this. That's what he imagined Neal would be thinking. Hell, Neal always dived headfirst into danger without thinking, because he knew Peter would be there at the end of it all to save him.

But this time, Peter was only there to pick up the pieces. This time he was too late. He screwed up. This time Caffrey had to save him. And now he was paying for it.

Peter shifted in the hard plastic chair, his discomfort going unnoticed in the dark fog of his more serious concerns. He leaned back, letting his head fall backwards to look to the ceiling as he let his thoughts drift back to that day...

_Two days prior_...

_Peter was uncomfortable about this operation. His gut was screaming at him that the whole thing had been drafted too quickly, that there hadn't been enough planning. It usually took weeks to safely plan a foolproof undercover sting, but this one had taken hours. It wasn't his fault, Organized Crime wanted to borrow Neal to take down David Ranston, a quick tempered, no nonsense goon with a brother in the Mafia. Ranston had been suspected of smuggling millions of pounds worth of drugs out of the country through a company selling firearms overseas. Which turned out to be just a front._

_The problem was, their culprit had caught wind of the FBI's close monitoring, and had booked a flight out of the country the same day. They had three hours to find a way to link Ranston to the crimes before he disappeared into hiding. The operation seemed simply enough, Neal was to go in under a fake alias Benjamin Layson and convince their mark to sell him the remaining goods. But it was still too quickly put together, but because Neal was their best option Peter had reluctantly agreed._

_Of course, the sting had all gone to hell. Ranston had grown too suspicious and panicked, pulling a gun on Neal. The FBI swarmed the warehouse and after a brief tense standoff Ranston lowered his weapon._

_The next few moments went by far too quick, but would be ingrained in Peter's head forever._

_The suspect fired off a round in Peter's direction before he took a kill shot himself from SWAT. Neal had sensed it before Peter, and he had shoved him out of the way only to have the bullet rip through his own chest. Peter remembered yelling his name, dropping to his knees to press down on the open wound in Neal's chest, while his consultant - already in shock - battled against consciousness as wide blue eyes locked onto Peter's own. Equally terrified._

_"Dammit Neal! what the hell were you thinking? C'mon, stay with me kid, your 'gonna be fine, you hear me? Your 'gonna be fine" he shook his consultants shoulder when his eyelids began to droop._

_"He would've shot you..." Neal replied sluggishly, his voice barely above a whisper between ragged breaths._

_"Yeah? And your still a member of this team too you know. You matter. Neal? Neal!" he tried to rouse his partner, who had finally succumbed to the darkness._

_Peter was aware of Diana's voice calling for an ambulance, but wasn't aware she had been stood beside him until she laid a hand on his shoulder._

_"They should be here in five boss" she informed him. Her usually calm and professional facade was clearly shaken by the events - Caffrey was a pain in the ass but had grown to be just as important to her as he was to Peter._

_Peter didn't remember answering. In fact, he didn't really remember much after that. Somehow they got to the hospital, and he remembered flashing his badge to a fearful looking receptionist and yelling one too many things he might regret. Neal had been whisked off to surgery, and Peter had been left pacing the waiting room until Elizabeth arrived and they spent the next few hours hugging in silence, because nothing either of them could say would save the con that had charmed his way into their lives with a million dollar smile and a tip of a fedora._

_Now..._

Peter sighed and turned his gaze back to the hospital bed, only to find a wide pair of baby blues staring back at him.

"Hey Peter"

Neal's voice was harsh and rough, but it was the sweetest sound Peter had ever heard.

"Hey kiddo"


End file.
